


My Kit

by orphan_account



Category: Cinderella 2015
Genre: F/M, Hurt, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ella knew Kit had been with women prior to their marriage, she couldn't of expected it to be otherwise. Knowing of the said females existence, however, and meeting them was hardly the same thing. The worst part, however, was that she looked absolutely nothing like her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Kit

The Baroness of Firenze had not attended the ball the King had thrown in hopes of finding his son a bride, knowing full well it was for the unwed maidens that would make a suitable wife for the Prince. Her husband, an elderly man who had no love for her and she no love for him, had failed to invite her to accompany him to court for the wedding of the former prince and a mysterious woman who had, by all accounts, enchanted him and all present at the Ball and lost a shoe on the steps. No matter who she talked to she could not escape the “romantic” tale of a merchants daughter degraded by a malicious stepmother to a ragged servant girl and saved by meeting a prince off hunting in the forest. Eight years passed, and with them came the announcements of three royal births while the Baroness remained childless and unhappy. Then, out of no where, her ancient goalkeeper died. 

That was all Ella knew of the widow of Baron Firenze, and all she wished to know, until her ladies in waiting heard gossip and rumour of a return to court, and suddenly all the information people felt unnecessary to tell her was out in the open, where it most certainly did not belong. The latest things she heard were not ones she cared for, and ones she hoped to forget. 

The ladies spoke of a sweet, shy girl who followed her fathers orders in attempting to attract the attention of higher born men, and eventually holding the attention of Kit. According to those who were there at the time, the pair were inseparable and well.... There were rumours that they had become better acquainted than what was proper, but all of that was put to an end when the King had sent his young son in his place to the war in the west. Taking advantage of his sons absence, the King had married the girl off to one of the lowlier, wifeless barons. From then on, the woman had become spiteful and bitter over her ill fortune. 

Kit knew she was coming, Ella had heard people talking to him of it, but they all had grown silent when she approached. And he never said anything to her of it, never spoke of it at all to her. Ella was hurt, and in that decided to invest most of her time in her children, who had always made her feel happy no matter what the circumstance. Excluding now, when all she could wonder was if Kit would have been happier to have someone others features mark his heirs face or have another woman's hair colour bless their youngest. The Queen knew her husband loved her with all his heart, but that did not stop him from wondering what might have been and longing for that impossible, alternate universe. 

When the day finally arrived when the infamous woman was to, well, arrive Ella had been nervous, skittish and despondent, and though Kit could think of what might have set her into such a state he could not conceive a way to discuss the matter. Just as he had worked up the courage to broach the topic as they sat in their informal sitting room, not at all close to each other and emotion straining the air, a herald announced the appearance of the said Baroness and her wish to be received by the royal couple. And the King could not, quite literally, refuse. So, they moved to the formal sitting room (a silly 'rule', as it were, but only trusted friends were permitted within the informal).

Ella knew Kit had been with women prior to their marriage, she couldn't of expected it to be otherwise. Knowing of the said females existence, however, and meeting them was hardly the same thing. The worst part, however, was that she looked absolutely nothing like her.

The Baroness wore a dark and austere shade of what may have originally been brown, covered in furs and strange feathers, and a lavish headpiece balanced in her dull hair. Her facial features were sharp and eyes were an electric blue, though could not be compared to Kits. And, without a doubt, she was more voluptuous. Her face was thin and lips were a tight, unsmiling line, but from the shoulders down she was curvy and rounded. Ella, however, was none of those things. The Queen had recovered her lost weight and the sharp angles of her shoulders and softened and smoothed out, motherhood also aiding her, from the year she had spent as a subservient slave to her stepfamily a few years ago, but it seemed she was genetically meant to have a slight build and thin frame. And she was never an ostentatious dresser. 

Three years of life with the Tremaines had given Ella the skill of reading peoples emotions, though admittedly her stepsisters were uncommonly shallow subjects, and she could see by the filtering gaze of the woman as she was lead into the room that she did not match the description of a Queen. 

Silently, Ella regretted what little thought she had put into her wardrobe that day. 

Her hair was in a half up half down style that was incredibly casual and her gown was a powder blue garment (of finder silks, indeed, but still not an incredibly majestic piece of attire) with little embroidered twirls and flowers in silver at the trim and hemlines. Why couldn't she have worn the deep, deep blue dress with the spindled gold embroidery? It had even been laid out today, the servants clearly having more sense than her. She had often been told she looked regal in it, and royal was what she needed now. To remind even herself of who she was, to affirm she was there because of her husbands love for her. She, instead, had chosen the light blue, knowing Kit favoured the colour on her. 

"Your Majesties." The woman forced a smile, curtseying not nearly as low as one ought to. 

"Your Ladyship." Kit allowed, tenser than ever. Ella might have sensed his bottled up anger had she been paying attention to him. 

"Please, Christopher, Jessamine will suffice." She responded with a knowing smile that made Ella feel, though she loathed the fact she felt it, angry, before concluding “Jessamine” knew exactly what she was doing to the Queen. "We've been through enough together to treat each other as friends." She proceeded to add in reaction to Ella's seemingly calm mood, just as the Queen noted that she did not call her husband Kit. 

"Lady Firenze." Kit asserted in retaliation, in no way pleased with her obvious intent of uneasing Ella. "I do not believe you have been introduced to my wife." He turned to Ella and he could tell she was hurt by the lack of a smile on his lips, but could not make himself to show any emotion in front of the Baroness.

"Your Majesty." The Lady curtseyed, even less low than before, in recognition and Ella nodded politely as she was expected to do. Did Kit yearn for her touch? Was all she could think of. Was she... Was she better? Ella did not have any experience other than her husband to compare him to, but judging by the way he made her feel...He was good, if there was any such thing as an understatement. Does he pretend I'm her? Does he wish I was her?

After a brief exchange between the King and the Baroness, a degree of hostility eventually accumulating on either side, she excused herself and Ella felt herself relax considerably, despite her husbands presence. It seemed odd. She had thought she'd known her husband, and she still did. 

After the countless days they had spent together, just talking and sharing their lives, and the countless nights they had spent in each others arms, the heated tearing of clothing and deep kisses exchanged, she had been convinced she knew everything about him. He knew all about her, that was a fact. On such nights, between fits of laughter, passionate touches and moans of ecstasy, they had created three children that they both loved more than life itself. How much else had he hidden from her? 

"You know I love you, Ella." Kit said after a while, turning to his queen. "I have only ever loved you." She surely knew, he had felt her emotions through the space between them the instant the shard of memory from his past had walked through that door. "Ella, please look at me." He begged, seeing her just stare into a void. "El-"

"Why didn't you say anything?" There were tears in her eyes, falling down and onto her soft skin. "I told you every single thing there is to know about me and you kept this from me. Kept her from me." Ella figured she was being stupid, that there really was no way to quietly slide it into the conversation until very recently. That didn't excuse it, however. 

"Because I haven't thought about her in years." Kit said, repulsed by himself for even making her cry and dire to make her see why he had failed to tell her, cupping her beautiful face in his hands. She was cold to the touch and Ella could see how hurt he was by her pain, beautiful blue pools of love, pure love. "I haven't paid any thought to her since she was married off. I had just come back from a war, I didn't care what a counts daughter with a hunger for power wanted with me. If I was to list off every indiscretion would it make you happy?!"

"Yes!" Ella threw back, a sob racking her body as she met his eyes. "Because that's what you are supposed to do with the ones you love! I have told you everything!" All he wanted to do was reach out and kiss away those cursed tears that insisted to fall like rain on a spring day, but he didn't, it was not the time. 

"When I was eleven years old Lady Loena, now the Countess of Dorin, kissed me underneath that apple tree behind the orange blossom bushes in the west gardens." Kit continued to confess, looking to his feet. "And I assure you, whenever I walk past that tree al I can think of is how uncomfortable I felt." There was a soft smile at the ridiculousness of the memory. "Four years later Princess Amarei of Arendelle was visiting with her mother and three brothers and despite her being six and ten she became relatively infatuated with me. When she eventually cornered me, I can not emphasise how embarrassing the encounter was when she realised I had absolutely no idea what to do." 

"Kit that's not what I meant by-" Ella began, and she was smiling too through her tears.

"Then when I was sixteen, my father insisted I at the very least show an interest in a noble girl. There was one, with a particularly pushy father, named Jessamine who I did indeed court for sometime." Ella's heart stopped. "I knew she would never have spent so much time with me had I not been royalty, but I continued to court her. My father was considering a betrothal to the youngest daughter of the Princess of Corona when she became very...persuasive." Ella's smile died and her lips were set in a straight line. "Ella, she was throwing herself at me and I was a sixteen year old boy who decided ‘why not?’. It was a mistake and I know it was."

"And?" She requested, expectant for more information. 

"I went to war, I returned a year later to find her married and a year after that fell in love with a beautiful maiden who lost control of her horse and insisted I protect a stag." He answered honestly, and her face showed no response to his words. "Ella, none of them have ever made me feel anything like the way you've made me feel. I have never loved anyone other than you, I've never wanted anything other than you. You taught me who I was, Ella. You taught me how to be kind and courageous and that because it's what's done doesn't mean it's what should be done." 

"I love you too, Kit." She murmured, and a smile returned to her full lips. "But from this day on you must tell me as much as I tell you."

"Than I shall, My Ella." He promised, leaning in to make his intent clear. His wife did not pull away as his face moved closer to hers, noses touching and eyes focused on each others lips. And then she threw her arms about her husbands neck and drew his head closer to hers, his beautiful lips on her own, hungry and comforting. 

"My Kit."


End file.
